


The Floor Is Lava

by Evasions



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, SPN family, Spn fandom, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evasions/pseuds/Evasions
Summary: It starts as a game of 'The Floor Is Lava', but it ends as something so much more."We both say 'the floor is lava' to each other three times, and whoever fails at finifing safety the most, loses. The forfeit for the loser will be chosen at the time.""Okay, Winchester. You're on. Let's do it."





	The Floor Is Lava

**Author's Note:**

> warning; this is terrible.
> 
> i rewrote this during march, 2018, but it still isn't very good (like, at all) and i can't write for shit. anyway, enjoy.

A frustrated groan resonates throughout the college dorm room as Dean dramatically flings himself onto his bed, his face mushed into his pillow. Castiel, his roommate and best friend, sits on the other bed in the room, his fingers rapidly moving over the keys of his laptop. He's either emailing Gabriel or finishing up his English essay, Dean isn't too sure. He wasn't fully caffeinated when Castiel discussed it this morning.

Dean huffs into his pillow, not enjoying the summer heat. The air is practically weighed down with humidity, and Dean has always preferred the cold. When it's winter, his beer doesn't go warm.

"Bored?" Castiel questions, averting his gaze from his laptop to look at his best friend, who's still sprawled across his bed.

"And boiling alive," Dean replies, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Maybe if you didn't insist on wearing layers of flannel all the time, you wouldn't be as warm," Castiel suggests, and doesn't miss Dean blindly flipping him off. Cas rolls his eyes, but can't help the fond smile that grows on his face. Then Cas perks up. "Hey, Dean?"

"What?" Dean grumbles, turning his head to the side so he's looking at his best friend rather than his pillow case.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Cas asks, closing the lid to his laptop.

Dean ponders this for a few seconds, then heaves a sigh, sitting up.

"Sure. Why not?"

Dean would soon find out why not.

The two men walk through the nearby park, the path being bordered by trees on one side and a green field on the other. The park is bustling, and people are having picnics, playing frisbee, walking their dogs and more, everyone eager to take advantage of the heat while they still can. The two of them chat easily as they walk, and a sleep-deprived Dean is painfully aware of each time their arms accidentally touch.

"This place is quite nice," Cas comments, "Very scenic."

"It is," Dean agrees.

"Alas," Cas starts, dramatically, "This park isn't safe. The floor is lava."

Dean's face moulds from confusion, to recognition, to amusement and then finally panic, when he realises that he has three seconds left to get off the ground. Castiel, the smug bastard, watches with an amused expression of his own, as Dean looks around frantically. Eventually, he spots a nearby trash can, and throws his dignity and pride in it before scrambling to get on top of it.

Castiel finishes his countdown from ten, and Dean's heart is still beating rapidly from where he's perched on top of the trash can. He doesn't think he's ever been more panicked in his life, and he breathes out in relief once Cas stops speaking, and stares at him with an arched eyebrow. Dean begins to climb down from the top of the bin, and just as he thinks he's safe, he loses his footing, and falls backwards into the half-full trash can.

Castiel can't help it, and loud laughs escape his throat as Dean struggles to lift himself out of the can, grumbling to himself when he realises he'll need assistance from the wheezing asshole in front of him. He also realises that Cas won't ever let him live this down, and he'll be lucky if Sam doesn't know by the end of the afternoon.

"It's on, Novak," Dean declares, like the mature adult he is. "We both say 'the floor is lava' to each other three times, and whoever fails at finifing safety the most, loses. The forfeit for the loser will be chosen at the time."

Cas' Cheshire grin doesn't cease, and he just says, "Okay, Winchester. You're on. Let's do it."

Dean rolls his eyes at his best friend's smugness.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Dean grumbles, "Now, help me out of the trash can, jackass."

Dean outstretches his arm, and Cas grabs his hand, tugging the Winchester out of the bin. Unfortunately, he pulls him out with too much force, and Dean ends up stumbling forward, right into Castiel's chest. Dean clears his throat, and the two quickly pull apart, exchanging awkward grins before continuing their walk.

There was about to be a war.

 

* * *

 

The next time the floor suddenly became lava is three days later, when a crippling heatwave strikes. The heatwave doesn't do anything to improve Dean's hatred towards the summer, and he's especially bitter and whiney. Dean and Cas came to the realisation that they don't have any beverages other than chips and beer. While Dean was perfectly content with surviving off of this, Castiel insisted that they went grocery shopping.

And that's how they ended up here, Dean grumpily mumbling stuff under his breath as he pushes the plastic, blue trolley cart through the electric doors of Walmart. They both repress sighs of relief as the air conditioning above the door welcomes them, and after feeling this immediate refreshment, Dean decides that they need any cold products they can find.

"We'll need ice," Dean says as they walk, "Definitely ice."

"Agreed," Castiel says, "Maybe that way, you'll stop sitting on the floor with your head stuck in the freezer."

"There's nothing wrong with staying cool," Dean defends himself. Cas just rolls his eyes, walking away from Dean and heading towards the freezer aisle, going to get the requested ice. Meanwhile, Dean squints down at the shopping list, struggling to read his own unintelligible hand writing.

Eventually, he deciphers it, realising that it says: 'Some drinks. Any drinks. I don't care, as long as they're fucking cold.' Dean then goes to retrieve some drinks.

He's not as good at writing shopping lists as Cas is. They take it in turns to write the list, and Cas' are always neat an organised. You always know exactly what to get, even if he isn't there. Dean's lists, however, are so scruffy can't even be read by the author himself, and he doesn't out too much effort into labelling specific items. That makes basic grocery shopping a challenge. What can he say? He's an impulsive shopper. That's why there's a blow-up shark floatie back in the dorm, despite the friends living nowhere near a beach.

The Winchester scans the aisle for any drinks that weren't rip offs, and then scoops up a bunch of them, dumping them into the cart. He makes a mental note to point the bottles at Castiel while opening them, since they've been so carelessly handled. He'd much rather see Cas covered in sticky pop than himself.

Dean then looks down at the next item on his list. 'Cas wants a rug. Try to talk him out of it.' He heaves a sigh. He tried to talk him out of it during the journey here, but Cas wasn't having it. He insisted that their dorm looked plain and tasteless without it. Dean doesn't want a rug. They're not a newly wed couple decorating their shared apartment, and Dean doesn't like reminding himself about that.

So, maybe he has some strong feelings towards his best friend. And maybe those feelings disregard the whole point of being just friends, but Dean can't help it. What he can do, however, is deny those feelings and keep Castiel in his life.

Dean pushes the cart towards the carpet/rug aisle, and Castiel joins him moments later, multiple large bags of ice stacked up in his arms. He carefully piles them in the shopping cart, and then joins Dean to look at the display of rugs. The display consisted of rolls of rugs, horizontally stacked one above the over, a fairly large gap in bewtween each one since the rolls were attached to the shelf, plenty of room for you to unroll them and look at them.

"Hey, Cas," Dean mumbles, pretending to look at a burgundy rug. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Cas looking at him, interest in his facial expression. "The floor is lava."

Cas' eyebrows furrow briefly at the statement, then it's as if a light bulb is lighting up in his brain. He seems to have previously forgotten about their game, and by the time he processes it, Dean's excited chanting reveals that he only has four seconds left.

He can't think about it any longer, and Cas dives at the neatly hung rugs, sliding through one of the gaps and landing on the shelf hidden behind the rugs. Dean's excitement bubbles away as he realises that Cas made it, and won the game.

"Fuck!" Dean curses, his voice apparently too loud, because a woman from a different aisle is glowering at him. She scowls at the crazy man who stands alone in an aisle, cursing at the sky as he kicks a rug. The woman then wraps a protective arm around her young son and whisks him away, still shooting dirty looks at Dean over her shoulder as she retreats.

Dean can't bring himself to care about the woman's opinion on him, because all he can focus on is the tentative voice coming from behind the rugs. The one saying, "Uh, Dean? How do I get out of this thing?"

The next forty five minutes is spent trying to get Cas free from the rugs. Cas is convinced that he'll be a hermit in Walmart forever, but Dean keeps assuring him that he'll get him out eventually. Dean is almost guilty about how much fun he was having, and then suddenly comes up with an idea. He grabs Castiel's leg with one hand, and grabs his arm with his other. He gives a couple firm tugs, and then Cas flies out of the shelf, crashing on top of Dean with a shout.

Neither of them bother to move, them both crying with laughter as Castiel lies on Dean's chest, their shopping and the heatwave long forgotten. They stay like that for a few minutes, only getting up when another customer 'politely' calls them fags and requests for them to 'stop blocking the fucking aisle with their gay as fuck PDA that's essentially damning them to Hell'.

Dean and Castiel don't bother to tell the man that they aren't a couple; they're both too annoyed for that. Instead, they curse him out, arguing with him until he storms off in anger. The two aren't in the mood to shop after that, and pay for their items before returning to their college dorm.

They never do get their rug. Dean can't say he's disappointed.

 

* * *

 

 

After the traumatising experience of getting stuck in Walmart, Castiel decides that he should go the extra mile to make Dean suffer the way he did. So, he, quite literally, goes an extra mile, forcing Dean to go on a mile long run with him. A mile really isn't that long, ten minutes if he's taking it slow, but Cas is fully aware of how much his roommate hates running.

Cas goes on runs almost daily, and goes way further than a mile, so he's used to it. Dean, on the other hand, would rather fly himself into the sun than go running. He goes to the gym, but that's all he's willing to do. Strength over stamina. Yet, Cas managed to convince him to go on a run.

Those damned puppy eyes. Dean falls for them every time.

Dean stands beside Cas as they take a break from running, Castiel taking sympathy on Dean after seeing him struggle. He shouldn't be so nice to him, really, after Dean caused him to get stuck on a musty shelf a few days earlier, but he couldn't help it. Castiel Novak has gone soft for Dean Winchester.

"Aren't you glad you came on this run with me, Dean?" Castiel beams, looking at his painting best friend beside him. "The heat is actually pretty great, now. Mother Nature's beautiful."

"Mother Nature's a whore!" Dean disagrees whole-heartedly, in between breathing heavily and glowering at his completely fine best friend. Cas just laughs, handing Dean his water bottle. Dean lost all common sense before they left their dorm, and forgot to bring his water bottle. They were a few minutes into their run up the mountain when he realised, and he refused to go back for it.

Dean chugs some of it, revelling in the refreshed feeling that immediately floods throughout him. He mutters a grateful 'thanks, Cas', handing the water bottle back to his roommate.

"No problem," Cas grins, "By the way, your laces are undone."

"Hm?" Dean hums, glancing down at his shoes. He heaves a sigh, and swears that his laces were tied just seconds ago. Begrudgingly, he crouches down, and begins to retie his laces. Cas watches him for a few seconds, then grins mischievously.

"The floor is lava."

Dean rushes to his feet, untied laces forgotten as he looks around the fairly desolate area. There's mostly just scrawny, dying trees. Suddenly, a large wall-like structured rock on the face of the hill catches his attention. He realises that he can either lose the game to Cas, or perch himself on the side of the rock. He goes for the latter.

Dean finds two places on the rock where he can place his feet and another two where he can place his hands. In a matter of seconds, he's squished against the wall, looking an awful lot like he's trying to imitate a starfish. Castiel represses a laugh as he watches his roommate start to lose his grip.

"One," Cas finishes his countdown, and Dean instantly drops to the ground, glowering at Castiel as he cackles.

"While I was tying my laces?" Dean chastises, "That was harsh, even for you."

"So," Cas starts, a wide grin on his face as Dean lounges against the rock, "You gonna tie those laces and get running, or are you gonna stay back here and be all moody?"

Dean shoots daggers at his roommate.

"I hate you so much."

"No, you don't."

Castiel then proceeds to retreat down the mountain, jogging at a steady pace to get back to campus. He smiles to himself as he doesn't hear a cocky retort from Dean, only hearing a frustrated groan coming from behind him.

"You coming?" Cas calls out over his shoulder.

"Yes! Now, wait up, dickhead!"

 

* * *

 

 

Mornings have never been an enjoyable thing for Castiel, which is understandable to most people. Unfortunately for him, 'most people' isn't his roommate, who insists on dragging him across campus at 7am on a Saturday. Even if it is to go retrieve some coffee, it's taking every fibre of Cas' being to not just fall asleep on the spot. He needs his daily dose of caffeine, just enough to give him the energy to scowl at he man who woke him up.

"I need coffee," Cas grumbles, rubbing at his eyes as he walks, trailing behind Dean, "Without the mile-long walk."

"Right, because the Starbucks across the street is an entire mile away," Dean retorts, dodging Castiel's weak attempt to elbow him in the ribs.

"We have a perfectly functional coffee machine in the dorm. You know what the good thing about that machine is? I don't have to wake up at ass o'clock in the morning to get in a queue, and I don't have to walk to that queue," Cas says, squinting as the sun gets in his eyes. Dean revels in the sunlight, while Castiel scowls up at the hall of fire in the sky as if it personally offended him.

"I jus thought we'd try something different," Dean shrugs. "Plus, that machine is crap. You have to hit it over and over again to get it to work."

Right. Just something different. While the coffee machine is inconvenient, that's not the real reason Dean's dragging Castiel to a pretentious coffee shop at 7 o'clock in the morning. After yesterday's escapade with rocks and shoelaces, Dean decided that he'd make Castiel pay. The most reasonable place to do this was, of course, in a coffee shop; a place where Castiel would truly feel at home, just to make the betrayal sting a little more.

"So, maybe the coffee machine is a little broken. Hitting it is a great way to release your anger."

"It's not a healthy way, though."

"You sound like Sam."

"Shut up."

Their bickering comes to a stop as they push the doors to the Starbucks open - the strong scent of coffee hitting them like a punch in the face. Despite the early time, many people crowd the coffee store, rattling off overly-complicated orders to the borderline suicidal staff.

"The usual?" Dean questions. Cas makes a weird grumbling sound, but Dean takes that as a 'yes', and joins the queue with Castiel by his side. When they finally reach the front of the queue, Cas lets Dean do the speaking, since it's come to his attention that his awkwardness makes some people uncomfortable. The barista is still collecting the other customer's change, and Dean takes the opportunity to lean in close to Castiel, whispering, "The Floor Is Lava."

A string of hissed curse words tumble out of the man's mouth as he looks around, ignoring as Dean counts down. He then realises that he only has one option.

"Sorry!" Cas apologises, looking at the confused barista as he clambers onto the counter. A few things are knocked off the counter in the process, and the scene catches quite a lot of attention. A few bystanders look at him questioningly, and Dean laughs as Cas informs them that floor is now lava. Some other college students gasp in recognition, and dramatically retreat to safety (on chairs, though, which Cas is now realising is a much better idea).

The barista stares up at Castiel dumbfounded as the manager comes out to see what the chaos is. Once Cas climbs down from the counter, he's escorted out by the furious manager, who warns him to never come back. He also says something along the lines of 'and once your boyfriend has his drink, tell him to piss off, too', and Cas is too shocked to correct him, and he then realises that the jackass is still ordering a damn coffee.

He stands outside Starbucks, glowering at the pavement as he waits for Dean to return. He would ditch him, but Dean has the dorm keys, while a half-asleep Castiel left his behind. When Dean leaves the shop, Castiel is about to give him an earful, but then Dean holds out a drink to him.

Cautiously, Castiel accepts the drink, unsure wether Dean did something to the drink as another part of his revenge, as if social embarrassment isn't enough. Dean realises this, and rolls his eyes, but he can't restrain his grin. "I haven't contaminated your drink, Novak. You got kicked out of the nearest coffee shop because of me, the least I could do is buy you a drink."

"Thanks," Castiel smiles. "But you do realise that you're banned from that Starbucks too, right?"

The grin instantly drops from Dean's face.

"Wait, what?"

 

* * *

 

 

"Fuck no," Castiel deadpans.

"Please?"

"No. Not to be dramatic, but I'd rather be violently mutilated than go to Charlie's party and watch her make out with Jo for the entire thing. It happens every time, and no matter how much I drink, I can never forget it. If I drink anymore, I'll get alcohol poisoning," Cas denies. "Which is quite desirable compared to the scene of their tongues being shoved into each other's mouths."

It's nearly been a week since the last 'the floor is lava' incident, and it's a Friday, which means Charlie Bradbury's end of year party. Last year, she threw one and it was one of the biggest parties of the year, students eagerly cramming into her dorm and devouring her snacks and alcohol. Though, for months afterwards she was complaining about strangers leaving 'suspicious stains' everywhere, and how she was too afraid to sit on her own couch because of said stains.

"What's a little mental scarring when there's beer?" Dean tempts.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself to go?" Cas retorts, which earns him a glare.

"It's Friday night and I'm bored," Dean whines. "I'm bored of essays, and annoying professors, and mounds of homework. I just thought it'd be nice to get out of the dorm and have a break."

"If you just want to get out of the dorm, why don't we go to that pie shop that just opened downtown? What's it called... Bobby's? Garth was on about it yesterday; he said it was great," Cas suggests.

Dean ponders this for a few seconds before giving in, deciding that pie is more valuable than room-temperature beer and crowds of sweaty people.

"Fine. But this pie better be good."

And then the two end up at Bobby's, a pie store set out like an old-fashioned diner; all red leather booths, neon signs and tiled floors, with a jukebox in the corner. There's also a desk at the front that stretches all across the shop, like a bar, with numerous stools at it. The place is packed, and Castiel instantly decides that it's the perfect place for their game; Dean will have nowhere to go once the phrase-that-wins is yelled. Hopefully, they won't get banned from this place, because Cas knows that Dean will never forgive him if they are. Dean has an emotional attachment to pie, and he'll murder anyone who gets inbetween him and his 'slice of heaven', including Castiel.

They're instantly greeted by the cheerful grin of one of the workers, and they approach the counter, only to realise that one stool remains. They both stop in unison, both realising the debacle at the same time.

"You can have it," Dean offers, turning to Castiel, "You're the one who said we should come here, in the first place."

Castiel hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. He doesn't see the way Dean's gaze is drawn to his lips, and how Dean feels as if he has to tear his eyes from the sight.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks, warily.

Normally, he'd be more argumentative, but Dean having a seat would completely destroy his plan. So being polite can be damned, because all it takes is for Dean to insist once more for Cas to sigh and sit down.

"Thanks," Castiel says, smiling. Dean returns the smile, but they both flinch slightly when the worker clears her throat from behind the counter, making both of them look at her, slightly embarrassed at how she watched the whole exchange.

"How can I help you?" She questions, grinning at the two of them with a slight smirk on her face. One that makes Cas feel as if she can see right through him, and knows about his unrequited feelings for Dean just by looking at him.

The two place their orders, Dean drumming his fingers on the counter as she waltzes away, going to retrieve their pie.

"Hey, Dean," Castiel says, trying to be as nonchalant as possible so he doesn't give anything away. Dean hums curiously and glances at Cas, and Cas looks away from the large menu mounted on the wall to look at Dean. The corner of Castiel's lips quirk up, and as casually as he can muster, he says, "The floor is lava."

"Cas, what the fuck? We can't keep getting kicked out of places. The pie store, of all places? You son of a bitch!" Dean rambles, ignoring the curious gazes of the couple beside them.

"Five."

"I can't believe you!"

"Four."

Dean remembers the results of their last round of the game, and how standing on the counter isn't a good idea. The staff seem nicer here, but he still isn't willing to risk it, not when Garth - the most critical person he knows, when it comes to food - has approved of this place. Still, he isn't going to give in that easily.

"Three."

"I hate you so fucking much, right now."

"Two."

A smirk grows on Dean's face as an idea forms in his mind, and before he can talk himself out of it, he sits in Castiel's lap, feet off the ground as he wraps his arms around the brunette's neck for support. He tries his hardest not to blush as Castiel looks at him, blue eyes wide in shock. As he looks into those eyes, Dean realises how close the two are, and how their breaths can be felt against each other's faces.

Butterflies swarm in Castiel's stomach, but he ignores them, distractedly finishing his countdown.

"One," Cas finishes, his voice softer now.

Dean should get out of his lap now. They've finished this round of their game. Most friends don't casually sit in each other's laps, yet neither of them want to move. Dean hesitates, but slips out of Cas' lap, his arms unwrapping from around the man's neck. Castiel instantly misses the warmth, but doesn't comment.

"Looks like I won," Dean swallows, smiling weakly.

"Seems so," Cas agrees, nodding his head with his lips pursed.

The waitress returns soon after, placing a white, paper bag on the counter, their logo proudly embossed on the surface of it. Inside it, two boxes are stacked on top of each other, and she smiles widely at them.

"That'll be $5.95, please," she says, unaware of the slightly tense air around the friends. She still has that slight look in her eyes, one that makes her seem so knowing when she looks at the two of them, and it makes Castiel feel uncomfortable. Ignoring Dean's protests, he places a $10 bill on the counter, telling the waitress to keep the change. She smiles gratefully, "Thanks. You're a cute couple, by the way. I hope you have a good evening!"

You're a cute couple.

The words take both boys by surprise, although it should've been expected after the way Dean sat in Castiel's lap just seconds ago. They both look at each other, slightly flushed, before facing the waitress once again.

"We're not a couple," Dean says, awkwardly grabbing the bag off the counter, "But thanks, anyway, and you too."

"Oh." The waitress says, but Cas has a feeling that she knew exactly what she was doing. "Sorry. Well, uh, enjoy your pie."

"We will, thanks," Castiel says, flashing his best polite grin before heading towards the door, his pace faster than normal.

He can feel Dean behind him, just a flustered an eager to leave the cheerful waitress behind.

 

* * *

 

 

"Wasn't that great?" Dean asks, grinning as he shoves his hands in his pockets. Dean's referring to the movie they just watched; 'Logan'. Ever since Dean watched the trailer, he'd had his heart set on watching it, dragging Cas along to the cinema with the promise of salted popcorn. Honestly, Cas would've gone without the snacks, but he'd never admit that to Dean, the one who was supplying him with said snacks.

"I guess," Cas shrugs.

"You guess? You guess?" Dean repeats, iredicqulously. "You were hooked the whole time, I could see it on your face."

"Why were you looking at my face, Dean?" Cas questions, teasingly, "Shouldn't you have been watching the movie?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but snaps it shut almost instantly. Castiel snickers at this, ignoring Dean's scowl.

"You know what, Cas? The floor is lava," Dean retorts, finally.

The amusement on Castiel's face instantly switches into panic, as he realises that there's nowhere to go from where they're standing in the middle of the street.

"Really? Now, of all times?" Cas asks, and Dean just smirks, counting down from five. "And stop counting so quickly, that's definitely not in Mississippis."

Dean ignores the comment, but he can't ignore his roommate jumping on his back, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around Dean's waist to prevent himself from falling. Instinctively, Dean grabs Cas' thighs, holding him up, completely forgetting to count.

Castiel grins in victory, as Dean frowns below him. Tauntingly, Cas pats Dean's cheek, saying, "Cheer up, bucko."

Dean swats his hand away, nearly dropping Cas in the process.

"Alright, let me down before you kill me," Castiel says, clinging to Dean in fear of being dropped again. Dean stops walking, pausing Cas' piggy back down the street. Cas slides off Dean's back, saying, "The game is over, and we tied."

"Yeah, but since no one's getting a forfeit, shouldn't we both get a prize?" Dean suggests.

"That sounds reasonable," Cas agrees. "Got anything in mind?"

"I have, actually, but I don't know if you'll like it," Dean says, avoiding Cas' eyes.

"I'm sure that whatever it is will be fine," Cas assures him, "What is it?"

"I..." Dean breathes out, a weak attempt to calm himself down. "I want to kiss you."

For a moment, he thinks that he's messed everything up, because Castiel is silent, and is saying nothing, just staring at Dean with those penetrating eyes. But then he speaks up.

"Then kiss me."

"What?"

Dean was expecting every possible reaction, every rejection, everything apart from that. He finally meets Castiel's eyes, and he looks deadly serious. He isn't kidding, holy shit, he actually isn't kidding -

"Just kiss me, Dean."

Dean obliges, swallowing and taking a step towards Cas, using two fingers to grip his chin, angling his head towards him. He looks at Castiel for reassurance, and one firm nod from his roommate is all he needs. Dean uses his grip on Castiel's chin to guide them together, their lips finally colliding. At the moment, nothing else matters; the fact that they're in public is forgotten, and the only things they care about are their locked lips and their fluttering hearts. Cas steps forward, holding Dean's waist and pulling him closer as their lips move in sync, their faces illuminated by the streetlights.

Seconds later, they pull away, breathing heavily as they stare at each other.

Cas grins, licking his lips. "It's about time."

 

 


End file.
